PSOH Mistletoe
by tigersilver
Summary: AU. Leon and the Count, Ten-chan and his lover...and pine cones and ribbon. What better way to get an early start on the season, yeah, but make ornaments for every friggin' bough on the damned tree?


PSOH Mistletoe

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you!"

The kitsune stole a glance up, color surging in his cheeks, and seemed to sidle further into the badger woman's shadow, hiding behind the huge skein of dark wool she'd given him to wind. The two of them were tucked away in a dim corner of the Count's Pet Shop Parlor, safely out of the bustle, unnoticed by the crowd of excited Pets and the two acceptable humans, Leon and young Christopher.

"Are you hiding from me, Sakura?" Ten-chan asked, and the badger woman chuckled, and twitched her skirts away to reveal the whole of the kitsune boy, garbed in white as usual, his red-black hair tied back with a festive green bow. It had grown longer in the months since Lord Ten had returned from Japan – and the Lord had said he preferred it longer - so, of course, Sakura had grown it out to please him.

He did everything he could to please his master – but there were still certain things he could not do. Speaking boldly was one of them, as well as demanding any sort of attention, and there was another—

"N-no, my Lord," he mumbled in his soft voice, barely audible over the din in the parlor. He was definitely blushing now. He brought his woodland-colored eyes down to the carpeted floor and kept them there, uncomfortable at the sudden notice from his Lord. Lord Ten always made Sakura's habitual timidity ten times worse simply by existing. To be singled out like this was completely unnerving.

"That's not nice of you, my love. I should probably be angry–" and here Sakura gasped, blushing harder

"—but I won't be, since I know you're damnably shy. But come out now – we have mistletoe balls to construct and your fingers are far more nimble than mine!"

Ten-chan grasped Sakura's one arm, gently hauling him to his small slippered feet, the burgundy wool strands unwinding behind him. The badger woman deftly gathered its weight, unlooping it from the kitsune's wrists, setting him free.

"Oh! But—!" Sakura protested, tripping forward and grabbing at Ten-chan's hands to steady himself.

"Go on, boy. You'll have far more fun with him than me!"

The kitsune let go of Ten-chan immediately, hiding his burning fingers behind his back. He could not have gotten any redder; even the tips his ears afire at the unexpected warmth that flamed up his arms, sparking from the embers of that unplanned touch.

He stood, stock-still, and attempted to make himself less visible even as the Fox Lord eyed him up and down.

Ten-chan bent down with a smile, for the kitsune was just a shade shorter than he, and whispered in Sakura's reddened ear as he slid a cagy arm around his reticent lover, holding him fast by his side:

"Oh, yes, you will. I guarantee it!"

"My lord," Sakura pleaded, hazel eyes fixed now on the tasseled clasp on Ten-chan's chest, "my Lord, I do not wish to! It's not my p-place!"

Lord Ten's face went stern, and he swung the kitsune away from the sharp ears of the badger lady and over by the door. He grasped Sakura's shoulders, still too thin under the bone-white fabric, and frowned.

"You would deny me time spent with my precious darling? You don't wish to be with me?"

The kitsune turned pale, and his fingers trembled. He was horribly shy, it was true, but even the boldest of Lord Ten's subjects would never dare make _that _kind of claim on my Lord. They weren't a couple, not even remotely so. He knew that – knew it too well, it seemed, for jealousy wracked him went the Fox Lord went 'missing' – perhaps he was off seeing somebody else? – or when he was too attentive to the ladies in the Shop or Miss Jill. It wounded him deeply, but he had to bear it, for Lord Ten was not his to claim.

Sakura was sure that this was just a passing fancy; Lord Ten would grow bored of him soon. He had little to offer but his untrained body and his eagerness to please…and he was absolutely positive that he was too simple and plain for his Lord's no doubt sophisticated tastes. It would pass, this relationship – he'd be abandoned once again – and so he was careful never to assume that Lord Ten actually 'loved' him or anything.

Still, what he had was more than enough – he was happy, happier than he'd ever been. He struggled to assured the Fox Lord of that fact, his soft words tripping over themselves in his haste.

"No, my Lord, I didn't mean it like that! _Of course I wish to_–I always wish to," he gulped and looked away, continuing with effort. "It is only that the Parlor is very full today. I wouldn't want to impose."

"And how could you possibly impose, sweetling? You're so skilled with those fingers – a fact I know well,"

Ten chuckled meaningfully, so that the kitsune clenched his guilty fists behind his back, remembering how he'd clung to Lord Ten's neck just a short while earlier, in the throes of passionate ejaculation. He used them, too, when he'd caressed his Lord's—

"My Lord," he whispered, ashamed of his own petty lust. He'd always known that he shouldn't assume, but Lord Ten was so gentle…so caring and kind and…and so he'd let himself dream a little, thinking they might possibly—

No.

"It's just mistletoe, holly and ribbons, and we need them tied neatly so that they may be hung," Ten-chan continued, oblivious to his meek lover's quiet agitation. The kitsune was often overtaken with shyness – and it was best to just jolly him through it sometimes, so that he could get used to being around People, and being with someone who cared for him—

But.

Sakura looked utterly miserable – far more miserable than a request to create mistletoe decorations could possibly warrant. Ten's expression sharpened and he exhaled a small sigh before he opened the door and whisked the two of them into the Hallway. It was time again to demonstrate to his little lover just how much he was truly loved – the boy never believed in him for long, sad to say. Could it be because he was the Trickster? Ten mused, smiling ruefully at the notion.

"W-where are we going?" Sakura asked, breathless at being hauled along at breakneck pace down the Hallway. "Is the mistletoe kept out here?"

Ten glanced back, and grinned slyly. No, this was all about Sakura. He was utterly adorable, but unassuming to a fault. Not that Ten minded convincing him – again and again!

"You need some practice, my love. We're going to get the kinks out of those little fingers of yours – put them to good use before we wrestle with prickly holly and messy mistletoe – though I don't mind if you want to decorate _me_," the Fox Lord muttered the last, naughty images of he and his kitsune lover wearing only well-placed velvet ribbons tickling his lordly fancy.

"M-my L-lord?" Sakura was pushed through their door and lowered in one swift motion onto the futon they shared, his green-brown eyes wide with shocked comprehension, his pale skin tinged again with the faintest of rose shades.

"Oh, yes, love. Most definitely _your_ Lord," Ten promised, untying Sakura's knots and bows, and freeing his hair to spill over their pillows.

"Ah!" Sakura gasped when Ten found him with fingers and mouth, and he tunneled his shaking hands into the Fox Lord's dark blonde tresses and held on tight, his lithe body bowed up to meet Ten's ravaging tongue.

"Oh!" he cried out when his Lord gave him pleasure, whispering sweet nothings 'round the base of his shaft.

"_Mnm_," he purred when the Fox Lord slid home, tight and hot in his quivering bottom.

"…ove you…love you," he mouthed silently when he could no longer think at all, the words welling up unchecked from the bottom of his heart.

_Until I die. When I'm born, again. _

His eyes closed tight, he didn't catch the sizzle in Ten-chan's eyes, the passion that burned there, all for him. Ten huffed in frustration and thrust more deeply, turning emotion to action, till Sakura couldn't help but whimper aloud those damning words, his hazel eyes wide and blind.

They sighed when it was over, Sakura turning instinctively into his lover's arms, nestling his damp skin against Ten's heat. He smiled, tentatively - for it was a great leap of faith to believe Lord Ten felt anything more than lust for him, or anything at all for that matter - and gazed at his Lord reverently, his eyes adoring. Ten kissed his brow in return.

"_My_ Sakura," he stated.

"_Yours_," agreed the kitsune, with a happy sigh.

"You know, D, this is a pain in the ass. My fingers hurt, okay? Can we stop now?" the detective whined, sucking on the fingertips of one hand and shaking off a stem of clinging, prickly holly with the other.

"Besides, I thought you said you were gonna get help for this? Why am_ I _doing it?"

"Leon, just be patient. I only need a few more for the Parlor and then we'll be done. And_ I_ am helping you – in case you haven't noticed?"

"So you say, Mr. Butter-Wouldn't-Melt-In-My-Mouth, but then you're gonna want to do the Hallway too – and that's _how many_ doors?"

"Leon," the Count returned, his voice a little less conciliatory this time. "It's only the Parlor. Be patient – and retie that ribbon. One of the loops is larger than the other."

The detective did as he was told, fiddling with the silver fabric, so that there were three loops that emerged from the top of the braided holly-and-mistletoe ball – two of the same size for the actual bow, and one longer, for the hanging of the traditional ornament.

He frowned, concentrating, and they made two more in silence before he asked offhandedly:

"So what are these for, anyway? They're not for the tree- they're too heavy."

The Count smiled, softly, and stole a glance at the detective, who now had the tip of his tongue between his teeth as he nudged a slip of waxen-berried mistletoe just so. His purple-and-gold eyes were fond, even loving, something that would have gratified Leon greatly - had he looked up.

"They are for bringing people together, Leon," the Count told him, the smile creeping into his voice, "and they have already done so, or you wouldn't be helping me now."

Leon looked up, having perfected the bow on the new decoration taking shape in his capable hands, and stared at the Count inquiringly. One brow went up quizzically and D had to laugh at his dear detective's expression.

"By which I mean, thank you for helping me, Detective. You are my very_ favorite_ detective, you know."

Leon looked away immediately, checking out the boughs of holly and pine, the flickering candles on the Christmas tree, the simple lines of the sterling silver menorah, the bits and pieces of a thousand religions: antique icons and feathered, bespangled crowns, carved wooden faces and twinkling rings of colored lights – all coming together in the Count's idea of a Celebration – be of the coming Spring or of the rebirth of some god, Leon didn't know and didn't much care.

He simply found it beautiful, the way the Count was beautiful – full of marvelous, miraculous things that filled his formerly kinda boring life with a rare, sweet magic.

When he looked back down at the mound of mistletoe in his hands, his eyes were a very dark blue.

"…_my favorite Count, too_."

Count D only barely heard the admission, but his eyes were already alight with the same emotion Leon felt. D leaned forward over the tea table, as did the detective, both moving slowly as if falling through treacle, till the longest moment that ever existed finally ticked by and their lips met…and clung.

"Mistletoe also is for inspiring the act of kissing, Leon," D informed him some time later, as they lay entangled on the couch, ribbon and denim and silks all ascatter, sprigs of holly and pine cones haphazardly bundled down by their feet.

"I'd have to say it's very effective – don't you agree?"

END


End file.
